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Rabindranath Tagore's Tribute to Banda Singh Bahadar

Discussion in 'History of Sikhism' started by Admin Singh, May 15, 2010.

  1. Admin Singh

    Admin Singh
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    Jun 1, 2004
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    "Warrior is the one fights on behalf of the under-represnted and remains mission focused till the last limb." (SGGS, 1105)
    Rabindranath Tagore's Tribute to Banda Singh Bahadar
    BANDI BIR - The Captive Hero from Katha (Legends), 1899

    This poem is based on the anthology of the British historian Todd. The facts narrated by Todd have not been distorted in this poem. However, this is one of the poems where Nobel-Laureate Tagore upholds that the seeming defeat of the Sikhs was a victory in the test of history. It as the victory of their spirituality over the brutal force they had to encounter. That is why Sikh ideal survives as a dynamic force, one f the noble heritages that will propel the Indian nation forward. And what happened to the omnipotent rulers (Mughols) who had let the hell oose on this beautiful earth, cultivated cruelty and inhumanity at its highest and appeared invincible? In the words of the Poet - "With blood stained sword in hand, with their bloody look, They hide face in the children's lesson book ..." [Rajat Das Gupta]

    On the banks of the five rivers,
    Up rise the Sikhs spontaneous;
    With hair coiled above their head
    Inspired by the Mantra their Guru spread
    Fearless and unyielding.....
    "Glory to Guruji" - thousands of them
    Resound the horizon;
    At the rising sun of the dawn
    The Sikhs stare with deep emotion
    With new awakening.

    "Alakha Niranjan!" (means 'Holy Spotless'= God)

    The war cry of the rebellion;
    Let loose their chilvalry;
    On their ribs clank swords luminary;
    In wild joy was Punjab's insurrection
    "Alakha Niranjan!"

    There came a day,
    Thousands of hearts were on their way
    Without any binding or fear,
    Life and death at their feet slaves mere;
    There on the banks of those rivers
    The tale of that day still shivers.

    At the tower of the Delhi palace,
    Where the Sikhs are apace -
    The Badshajada's drowsy spell

    Time and again they quell;
    Whose voices there, the dark sky tear?
    Whose torches set the horizon afire?

    On the banks of the rivers five,
    For supreme sacrifice was their dive,
    Unleashed there was the flood
    Of the devotee's blood.
    From thousands of hearts torn apart
    For destination divine in their lark -
    The heroes putting their sacred blood mark
    On the forehead of their motherland
    There around the five rivers so dear and grand.

    In the Mughol and Sikh battle
    Their embrace to each other throttle
    Like the fight between the eagle and snake,
    Deep bruise one to the other did make.

    In the fierce fight of that day -
    In blood craze "Din Din" the Mughols bay,
    "Glory to Guruji" - was the Sikh's commotion
    In their divine devotion.

    At Gurudaspur castle
    When Banda was captured amidst all bustle
    In the hands of the Turani troop,
    As if a lion fettered with his group;
    To capital Delhi they were taken,
    Alas, at Gurudaspur Banda was beaten!

    The Mughol soldiers march ahead,
    Kicking up the road dust in sneer,
    Hoisting the Sikh's chopped head
    At the blade of their spear.
    Follow them Sikhs seven hundred,
    Tinkles their chain,
    Throng people on the road widespread,
    Windows open - a glimpse they fain,
    "Glory to Guruji", the Sikhs roar,
    For fear of life none is sore,
    Sikhs with the Mughols to-day,
    Stormed the Delhi road all in gay.

    Started the scurry,
    For lead in the carnage was their hurry;
    They line up at the dawn
    Defiant till their execution.
    "Glory to Guruji" was their slogan
    Until they were done.

    Thus over a week,
    The arena turned bleak;
    With seven hundred lives gone -
    Upon the martyrs' immortalization.
    On the last round of cruelty
    Banda was ordered by the Kazi
    To kill his own son,
    At ease to be done.

    In mere teen was the boy,
    With hands tied thrown as a toy
    Into the lap of Banda and without a word
    He drew him close to his heart.
    For a while he put his hand on his head,
    Just once kissed his turban red.
    He then draws his dagger,
    Whispers in the child's ear -
    "Glory be to Guruji - fear not my son"
    A virile in the boy's face did burn -
    In his juvenile voice the court did ring
    "Glory to Guruji" as he did sing.
    With his left hand Banda held the boy,
    With right struck the dagger in his ploy,
    "Glory be to Guruji", was all he did implore
    As he took to the floor.

    Silence fell in the court,
    Guruji's inspiration still not abort.
    Then with tong red hot
    Banda's body was pieced apart;
    A word of moan he uttered not
    And all in calm did he depart.
    As stopped his heart throb
    Witnesses closed eyes - silence choked pin drop.

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